Affirmations
by sekific
Summary: Mutual confessions aren't necessarily enough to fight fate with. But you can give it a good attempt. For Valentine's Day 2017. This fic diverges from canon, but still: spoilers for the whole game.


"There," Ignis says, sliding the Cosmology book over, at the page that explains again what the Messengers are. "Before Gentiana, others you can talk about. Telemachus. Hermenia."

Noctis, now he's not relying on his own accounts - or rather, 'undocumented primary sources' that make his teachers scold him for use of the word 'I' - manages to finish up the essay about how Messengers don't directly interfere in the affairs of mortals, and throws his books back into his bag in relief. Ignis is really not supposed to help him. It's against direct orders, Noctis is pretty sure. But Ignis is too nice to let Noctis struggle for too long.

That done, Noctis finally puts on the mecha cartoon he's been hooked on, and Ignis joins him. Secretly, Noctis knows, Ignis is as hooked as Noctis is, no matter how he excuses his interest as just keeping up with Noctis's interests.

This week's episode involves two of the characters confessing, after weeks of build-up, that they like each other romantically. It's a bit clunkily-written, Noctis thinks, but moving nonetheless. He knows what it's like, when your friend and mentor is someone you can't stop thinking about.

"Ignis," he says, carefully, as the credits roll. "You know I, um. You know I like you, right?"

Ignis, reaching for his folder of documents, stops.

"I mean," Noctis adds, and oh, god, why did he think this was a good idea, "I _like you_ like you."

"Yes," Ignis says. "I know."

Oh.

"It's very flattering," Ignis says, and he leans forward and this time does pick up his folder. "Thank you, Noctis."

Noctis watches, a bit nonplussed, as Ignis gets up and goes over to the table. "Oh."

"And I like you too," Ignis says, sitting down, opening his folder, apparently ignoring the way that his words have just made Noctis's heart swell in joy. "Like you like you, as it were."

"Then-"

"But there's not much we can do about this liking," Ignis adds. "We can't act on it, Noctis. You're the Chosen King. You're destined for… well, not for me."

Noctis ducks his head. If Ignis says they can't do anything about it, then they can't, it's as simple as that. But it's nice to know, he supposes, that the feeling goes both ways.

They're leaving Insomnia, and Noctis is getting married.

He has no idea if he loves Luna in a married-person way. It's complicated. They're friends. She's always been sweet to him. But last time he saw Luna he was a kid, and she was wiser and older and immeasurably grown-up in comparison. He admired her. But it wasn't love.

On the other hand, Noctis has been through stages of _fancying_ nearly everyone with a pulse. It's almost embarrassing, how easy it is for him to find himself wondering what it'd be like to make out with Prompto or if Gladio would actually kill him for kissing Iris. He's pretty sure it'd be a bad idea to act on anything - he's the Crown Prince, and he's supposed to have restraint and decorum and not to just jump people's bones 'cause he's horny - so he doesn't ever do more than just looking and wondering. Even with Ignis. So maybe he'll see Luna, and nature will do what it does, and there'll be chemistry.

"You're staying with me, right?"

"Pardon?"

"I mean, once I'm married. You'll still be my Chamberlain."

Ignis frowns, and pushes his glasses back up his nose. "Of course."

"It's just, I thought. It might be weird for you. When I'm married."

"Ah."

Their mutual confession has been repeated, over the years, every so often. I still like you, you know. As do I. And not acting on that, because that's what is required of them.

"It will be no stranger than things are now," Ignis says, softly. "I cannot have you. I still won't be able to have you."

"...yeah, I guess."

"And you'll have to marry someday. I don't resent Lady Lunafreya for taking that role."

Noctis wrinkles his nose. It's hard to tell, from Luna's messages, if she wants to marry him. They're both being unusually guarded in what they say to each other. But she doesn't seem enthused, really. "I think she's as trapped as I am."

"Quite."

Insomnia has fallen. His father is dead.

And Ignis tells him, stern and grim, that he still has to get to Altissia, that he still has to marry Luna, because that's what the prophecies say he has to do.

Noctis, in the slim privacy that a caravan affords when Prompto and Gladio are outside, despairs. He breaks down, scrubbing desperately at the tears that won't stop. Ignis holds him, lets Noctis weep against him as they sit together.

It's the closest contact they've ever had, and Noctis's body is torn with emotion, and somehow it still finds the strength to respond to that closeness. Oh. Ignis's arms are warm, his chin is resting on Noctis's head, and part of Noctis is grateful for the sorrow because it allows this embrace.

He tips his head upwards, ignores the faint protest that Ignis makes when he realises Noctis's intention, and draws Ignis into a kiss.

It's miserable, damp with his tears, and it means too much to him for any sort of sense.

They pull apart when they hear the caravan door close. Noctis cranes his neck, sees a pink-tinged Prompto retaking his seat outside, hears Prompto say 'they're talking' as he picks his phone up.

They were seen, and Noctis doesn't even have the energy to care.

Ignis presses their foreheads together, his breath heavy.

"Not tonight," he says. "I can't offer you comfort like this, not here."

Noctis can't even pretend not to beg. "Then when?"

"We'll take a motel, tomorrow." Ignis's hand slides down Noctis's arm. "But it can't become habit."

"Okay."

Noctis ducks into the caravan bathroom, to wash his face. Prompto gives him a speculative look, when they're outside, but says nothing. Good.

The motel is booked, and Prompto tugs at Noctis's elbow as they get up from the dining tables outside.

"You and Ignis," he says, and his eyes slide past Noctis to where Ignis is entering his motel room. "How long's that been going on?"

"Years." Noctis snorts. "Or a day. Both. Never touched him until yesterday. Wanted to forever."

Prompto's face does that confused, uncertain thing. "Should you really be sharing a room with him?"

"Probably not."

"But… you're going to anyway, right."

"Pretty much." Noctis sighs. "Look, I know you mean well. But it's… well, it's-"

"None of my business." Prompto reaches out, and pats Noctis's arm. "I won't say a word, I promise. Not even to Lady Lunafreya."

Noctis pulls Prompto into a hug, grateful beyond measure. "You're my best friend, you know that?"

"I know, I know, now get off me before Ignis kills me."

"Ha." Noctis grins. "Alright. And thanks."

"Yeah, yeah. You owe me."

When Noctis opens the motel room door, Ignis is sitting on the bed. He's jacketless, bootless, gloveless.

Noctis locks the door behind him.

Kissing Ignis this time feels different. Pre-planned. And Ignis, this time, doesn't pull away, keeps pulling Noctis's mouth back to his. Hands slide under, downwards, roaming, a path they're incapable of racing headlong down.

They lie there, afterwards, on the single bed, Ignis's naked chest against Noctis's naked back. He keeps pressing soft kisses along the back of Noctis's neck, prompting little echoing shivers of pleasure each time. It's blissful. The world outside is harsh, cruel, unfathomable, but in here there is only peace and comfort.

Noctis takes Ignis's hand, places it over his own heart, covers it with his own hand.

"You may not need to marry," Ignis says, in a murmur.

Noctis tries to take that in, can't. He turns, looking over his shoulder at Ignis.

"It's possible," Ignis says. "We owe the Empire nothing. The peace treaty is meaningless."

"Oh." That's true.

"But," and Ignis's hand presses hard, over Noctis's heart, "there is still the prophecy, and we cannot escape fate. And perhaps it would still serve her safety better, to wed her and get her out of imperial hands."

Noctis considers that, turns further around, and seeks out Ignis's mouth again.

"Until then," he says, "can we be a thing?"

Ignis shakes his head, brushes hair back from Noctis's brow. "Not after tonight. It wouldn't… I don't think I can handle that."

It's what Noctis expects, and yet, it hurts. He forces the pain down, away, smiles instead. "Then I'd better make the most of it while I can."

"Indeed. I still like you, Noct."

"I know."

By the time they reach Altissia, Luna is gone. She sends Umbra to Noctis, with a note:

 _The Glaceon beckons, and I must follow. Forgive me, Noctis. The dress is beautiful, but I won't wear it for you._

Leviathan rises out of the water for Noctis, as it had for Luna. Luna had suffered injuries during her summoning, has gone forward with fractures to leg and arm. Noctis fights, with his companions doing all they can to help him. He has a newfound respect for Luna afterwards. How did she face it down, this serpent who scorns humanity? It takes all they have to subdue the beast, between the four of them.

Two summonings, so close together, leaves Altissia a ruin.

In the temporary shelters they are given to recover in, Noctis inches close to Ignis, puts a hand over the bandages that criss-cross the man's face. So close to disaster. Any closer, the medics said, and Ignis might have lost an eye. Both eyes. He'll have deep scars above and below, instead, a small price to pay for his vision.

Noctis's own wounds are more shallow, will heal better. He wishes he could take this burden from Ignis, could carry the scars instead. He takes Ignis's hand. There are scars across Ignis's lips too; he has been told not to talk in case he pulls his stitches. But he can listen, Noctis thinks.

"Luna doesn't want to marry me," Noctis whispers, urgently.

Ignis's hand tightens.

"I promise, Specs. I'm not getting married."

The stitches are rough against Noctis's lips, and he forces Ignis to stop kissing him, fearful of worsening the scars. But his fingers trail down Ignis's neck, and he bumps his forehead into Ignis's, lost for words in the gratitude of what he hasn't lost. Ignis is here. Scarred, but entire.

"I like you," Noctis says, and it's nearly voiceless, and with Ignis's eyes covered he half-expects Ignis not to respond.

Even in the darkness, he can see Ignis's mouth shaping the words, _I like you too, Noct._

Luna boards their halted train and pits her strength with his to force Ardyn away, somehow, Noctis isn't sure to where except that it isn't really _here_. Luna calls on the gods to assist; Titan, Ramuh, Leviathan.

Shiva.

What a revelation that is, watching Gentiana stride by and alter, shift her shape, until the Goddess presses a kiss to Ardyn's cheek to shatter him physically.

"He's fled this plane," Luna says, firmly, as Noctis gets back up from the floor. "He's rebuilding strength. You'll need Bahamut, too, to face him in the end."

Gentiana, back in her demure human form, tips her head in agreement. "The chosen King has my blessing," she says. "And the King's companion needs yours, my Oracle."

Oh.

They retire to the dining carriage. With Gentiana concealing her true form, the air warms up enough to merely be frosty. Prompto fetches blankets from the sleeper carriage, and they squeeze in three to a bench, huddled, their breath steaming in the air. Well, Gentiana's doesn't steam. But it should, Noctis thinks, watching her. Not a very good act on her part.

Ignis sits very still, his eyes shifting uncomfortably as Luna traces the paths of his scars.

"They don't hurt," he says, as her eyes narrow. "Don't waste your powers on my vanity."

Luna closes her eyes, and then light spreads out beneath her fingers, a web of brilliance forming across Ignis's face. It holds for a breath, and then it's gone. Ignis is still scarred - the marks aren't as dark, but they're still there, marbling across Ignis's pale skin.

"You," Luna says accusingly, "are a terrible liar, Ignis."

Noctis doesn't understand. What just happened?

"I-thank you."

"Is the pain abated?"

Ignis nods, his mouth twitching with unsaid words.

"Then my work is done." Luna stands up, brushes herself down. "Noctis?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"I will see you at the Crystal."

She's gone, a second later. Gentiana's doing, probably, whisking her away in an eyeblink.

Ignis is touching his own face, cautiously. Gladio is patting him on the shoulder; Prompto is leaning in, with the camera, and then he shows the photo to Ignis.

"Your scars were painful, huh," Noctis says to Ignis.

"I… they weren't impeding me, I didn't see it as a problem."

Noctis smacks Ignis on the back of the head, with less force than he'd like, just in case. "Dumbass."

The train has sleeper compartments. A whole carriage. They could have one room each, if they chose. Instead, Prompto and Gladio seem to prefer sleeping just behind the train's engine, making a sort of shared nest of blankets and pillows in the entranceway. Noctis considers them, for a while, if the two of them are together the way he and Ignis are. It's possible.

If so, he wishes them joy of each other.

Their absence leaves Ignis and Noctis the whole sleeper carriage between them. They squeeze into one bunk.

"I like you," he says, and it's not enough, doesn't convey enough.

Ignis kisses him more eagerly, now Luna has lightened his scars for him. And now Noctis knows why Ignis was holding back, he feels guilt for all the kisses before that, while Ignis was still suffering.

When he tries to say that, Ignis just kisses him with even more passion.

Noctis stares out of the window, while Ignis sleeps. Gralea, soon, and the Crystal. Noctis is pretty sure he's not going to survive it, whatever it actually involves. It's like a suicide pact, him and Luna giving themselves to save the world.

The world. That's a big thought. All he wants, if he's truthful, is to save his friends and the people he's met along the way. Gladio. Prompto. Iris. Aranea. Talcott. Cor.

Ignis.

Everyone else is a bonus, if those people stay safe.

He curls himself around Ignis's sleeping body, and tries to rest for the battles ahead.

Noctis forces himself fractionally closer, trying to wriggle out of Gladio's grip.

Ignis and Prompto bar his way, arms outstretched.

"You must let her continue," Ignis says, insistent.

Behind them, Luna is contemplating the Crystal. Her hands are so close, so nearly on it.

"Don't touch it," Noctis says, and it's pleading. "Don't, Luna, you mustn't."

Gladio's arms tighten around him, dragging him backwards.

"Oracle," Gentiana says. "You know the price."

"I do. And I _will_ pay it."

There's a flash, and excruciating pain, and then when Noctis's vision clears, Luna is gone. The Crystal hangs ahead of them, pulsing darkly.

"Luna!"

But his companions have him in their combined grasp. They pull him to the ground, stop him from touching its surface.

Noctis stretches out, desperate. Luna is a dear friend, precious, and she can't survive if she-

And the Crystal cracks, fractures.

Noctis feels it, feels the shattering as if it's within him.

When he opens his eyes next, he's within a pocket of space that is quite unlike the metal walkways of Gralea. Instead of dark, sulphurous metals, there is air and light and a sensation of flowers all around him.

 _You are the Chosen_.

"So I'm told."

 _I can lend you my strength. For a price._

"Yeah? No deal. Give me Luna."

A sense of confusion. _The Oracle has passed, Chosen._

"Passed? Fuck that. Give me her back, then we'll talk about the Starscourge. I'm not doing zip without her."

Ravus, instead, is what appears. "My sister," he says, and oh, this really _is_ Ravus, from the distrust and dislike in his eyes, "has decided you are a more worthy vessel than her."

"That's bullshit. She's not dead, right?"

"No."

"Then she and I can face it together. Both of us. We can share the burden."

Ravus's eyes narrow. "Share it? So you can escape your fate."

"No. So she can escape hers."

Everything pauses, Ravus suspended as if frozen. _Noble_ , that voice says. _But without her sacrifice, no guarantees can be given._

"Like there were ever any of those. Come on. Stop arguing. Give her back."

"And if she goes," Ravus says, smoothly, as if there'd been no gap for him, "do you intend to wed her? Would you unite our bloodlines?"

"No. Are you nuts? No deal."

Ravus smiles, and turns away from him, and spreads his arms out wide. Noctis can't hear what he says, can see Ravus's mouth moving, and then everything whites out.

As he lifts his head, Luna steps delicately out of the cracked remnants of the Crystal. Gentiana extends her arm, helps Luna down the path of glittering shards.

"A gift," Luna says. "From my brother."

His father's sword. Noctis stares.

"Is Ravus-"

"Dead. Quite completely." Luna sighs. "He was very adamant that his sacrifice counts for both of us. My blood runs in his veins, and he has tasted the power of the Lucian kings."

Holy shit. "Did they buy it?"

A smile, small but proud. "They did."

Noctis surges to his feet, hugs Luna. "Then we might just be able to do this."

A cough, behind him, and Noctis turns. Prompto, his expression shy. Gladio, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. Ignis… oh, Ignis, looking stoic and sad. It takes Noctis a moment to connect his arms around Luna with the expression on Ignis's face, and then he's actually a bit cross for a moment. Luna's his friend. It's not like that. But he'll explain that later.

"Luna," Noctis says, and he lets go. "You know what I think?"

"That we need to get ourselves to Insomnia as soon as we can?"

"Damn right. Any chance we can hitch a ride with your spiritual advisor there?"

Gentiana's mouth tugs upwards. "You need only ask, O King."

Insomnia is _trashed_. Noctis gawks at the toppled towers, amazed. What the hell did the Niffs do, that could do this much damage?

"The Empire brought vast daemons," Luna says, as they walk through the ruins. Gentiana, in her infuriatingly strange way, had brought them to the edge of the inner district instead of depositing them within the Citadel. "Your father, before he died, gave me the ring, and inspired a Glaive to great feats of bravery in my defense. That Glaive awoke the Old Wall to rebuff the daemons."

"The Old Wall? Then the stories were true," Ignis says, musingly. "I had believed them only folklore."

"Iggy," Gladio says, "haven't we seen enough folklore come true lately?"

"A good point."

Noctis reaches out, and threads his hand into Ignis's, half-expecting Ignis to pull away. They haven't been alone since the Crystal. There's been no time to reaffirm how he feels. But Ignis allows this, allows Noctis to hold his hand, and that's as reassuring as Luna's firm conviction that they'll win.

"Must have been pretty cool," Prompto says. "But kinda terrifying."

"It was all terrifying."

"What happened to the Glaive, anyway?"

Luna looks away from them, towards a pile of rubble in the east. "He paid the price for borrowed power."

Too many deaths already, Noctis thinks, and tightens his hand on Ignis's.

"No more," Luna says, then, lifting her chin. "Noctis. We end it here. If I fall-"

"I won't let you."

She smiles at him. "Then the Starscourge will die tonight."

Later, when Noctis tries to explain it to Ignis, he can't find the words.

He tries, anyway. There are a lot of gestures involved. Ifrit, Ignis knows about, was there to witness - Ifrit's admission that he betrayed the Six, that he helped the Starscourge ascend to power. Bahamut's intervention, Shiva's loving execution.

The stuff with Ardyn is harder. Luna and Noctis, pacing through the Citadel alone. Ardyn's voice, taunting them both. Noctis describes the corpses that swung overhead in the throne room. His father. Ravus. The Glaive who'd helped Luna. Clarus.

Ignis winces, sympathetic, and pulls Noctis closer.

And he and Luna had thrown all they could at Ardyn. Luna's healing magic finessed into holy arrows that seemed to wound Ardyn as much as Noctis's blades did.

Finally, Luna, close enough to lay hands on Ardyn, her magics burning him up from within, until Noctis could cleave what was left of him in two, setting his spirit free.

The Old Kings, manifesting.

Ravus, shimmering in the midst of the Kings, as Noctis summoned his armiger for each King to pierce their old weapon into Ravus's ghostly form. His father's fingers closing over his, as Noctis united with his father to thrust the final sword into Ravus's heart.

Noctis and Luna, pulled outside time, made witnesses to the unearthly battle as Ravus tore Ardyn's soul into pieces.

And then finding themselves seated side-by-side on the throne, surrounded by flowers - Tenebraean, and only Ravus could be to blame for that - with the sun pinking the horizon and Noctis's companions bursting in through the now-unlocked doors.

They'd camped there, in the ruins of the throne room, with the sun rising. None of them with the strength to go anywhere else. Noctis, unable to stop clinging to Ignis as he let sleep claim him. Gladio and Prompto slumped against each other. Luna, lying on cushions taken from the throne, her head pillowed on Gentiana's lap.

A miracle.

"You must marry the Chosen King," he'd heard Gentiana say, just on the edge of sleep. "That is still foredestined, my Oracle."

"No," he'd heard Luna say, and then chuckle. "I have a better plan."

Luna fluffs up Noctis's hair, and pushes it away from the sides of his face.

"Stop that," Noctis says, fidgeting it back into place.

"Are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

The throne room is still a ruin. But the flowers bloom, incessant and to all intents immortal. And Luna is the Oracle. If she says this is something within her powers, then Noctis believes her. And Gentiana to witness what they're doing. The gods themselves bless this moment.

And besides, Noctis is the King. What he says goes, right?

The ceremony, such as it is, isn't long. It's a commitment. An affirmation. A bond.

A marriage, Gladio keeps muttering.

Ignis steps forward, from his side of the room. Crownsguard fatigues look good on him, even if they're a bit grubby around the edges. His scars are still startlingly prominent, but in truth, Noctis barely notices them. It's not what Ignis looks like that makes Noctis want him, anyway. It's what Ignis is.

"So," Noctis says, grinning up at him. "Guess what? I still like you."

"I've noticed," Ignis says. "And I still like you too, Noct."

"You'll still be my Chamberlain, right?"

"Even when you're married, yes."

Noctis grins more widely.

"Luna? Do us a favour and get the two of them hitched, will you? I can't handle all this sap."

Luna takes both their hands. "My friends. My position has allowed me to forge many bonds. And so, I forge this one, of love, between you both. May it strengthen you both."

There's a pause, and Noctis can't look away from Ignis's eyes.

"Is that it?" asks Prompto, uncertainly, camera poised to record the occasion. "Are they done now?"

Luna puts their hands together, and while she's _assured_ Noctis there's nothing magical in this ceremony, Noctis swears he can feel something spark along the connection. "Congratulations. The bond is made. You're now one."

"Thank god," Gladio says, and tosses his handful of dried rice in the air. "You're now bride and bride. Finally."

What Luna is performing isn't quite supposed to be a wedding. Maybe it's better than one, maybe not. Noctis intends to think of it as one, anyway. As does Luna; with this bonding, she has married Noctis. Technically. It's just that she's married him to someone else.

He and Ignis kiss, briefly, a shade embarrassed, in front of this assemblage. Then they sit with their friends in front of their makeshift campfire together, all of them passing around a single bottle of brandy filched from the kitchens far beneath them. Noctis is sure he can _feel_ the bond between them, like a glowing rich thread that makes him hyper-aware of Ignis.

"So where's the honeymoon gonna be?" Gladio asks, nudging Ignis. "Lestallum? The Cape?"

"I rather thought Galdin Quay," Ignis says, and chuckles. "Where I suspect, unless I wish to be bored, I will learn to appreciate fishing."

"Yeah, you'd better."

It won't be a long visit. There's a lot of work to be done. A capital to rebuild. A world, in the wake of being saved, that needs more work to really be fit to live in.

But at least Noctis knows he won't be alone. He has friends who'll fight with him, who'll work with him to restore peace and prosperity. Gladio. Prompto. Iris. Luna. Cor. Talcott. Aranea. Good people. Brave people. People Noctis can absolutely depend on.

And Ignis, by his side, always.

* * *

Author's Note:

Written for Valentine's Day 2017.

I love Luna and Ravus very dearly, so: here they are, being badasses and saving the world far more efficiently than Noctis managed. Which leaves Noctis plenty of time to be smooshily happy and in love with Ignis.

(Most of my FFXV fic is too 18-rated for this site. It's posted under the name Seki on AO3, if you wish to find it.)


End file.
